


everything is new and everything is you

by doespenguinsisgay



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (thoughts a character perceives as) Homophobia, Coming Out, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Realization, mat’s a fucking idiot you’ll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doespenguinsisgay/pseuds/doespenguinsisgay
Summary: a mat/tito take on the classic tale of “straight guy worries he’s being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he’s fallen in love with him”





	everything is new and everything is you

**Author's Note:**

> psa if you or anyone you know is mentioned above, please click away. it’ll be a better experience for everyone involved !!
> 
> if you’re still here, howdy!! this fic has been long in the works, so i hope you enjoy!
> 
> just as a preface, mat is oblivious as hell in this, but he’s a college aged, emotionally stunted boy, so what the hell! i love this trope, i think it’s kind of hilarious and can be super cute, so i did my best with this.
> 
> ANYWAY, you didn’t come here to read my notes, so i hope you enjoy! thanks for reading xx
> 
> title from lay all your love on me - abba

Mat had met Tito his freshman year of college, and they became pretty fast friends. They were in some of the same classes and had even more mutual friends, so one thing led to another until they were practically inseparable. So it seemed like the right thing to do when they settled on rooming together for their sophomore year, moving their limited belongings into a cramped dorm room that fall.

 

And, like, it’s awesome, Mat loves rooming with Tito. It’s less work to hang out and they don’t have to worry about annoying their roommates, so all in all it was a good decision.

 

Tito’s super chill, it’s one of the qualities that makes the friendship work. Mat’s man enough to admit he can be a little high strung, like, all of the time, so having a best friend as laid back as Tito, it’s nice to have that balance. His perpetually laid back demeanor also makes it easy to tell when he’s stressed or upset or has something on his mind, on nights like tonight.

 

It’s late on a Tuesday, but neither of them have any exceptionally early classes the next morning, so they stay up and just shoot the shit. Normally, they’d go out, but Tito has a lab the next day, so he can’t really afford to be hungover tomorrow. Plus Mat’s feeling lazy, so they stay in.

 

Mat’s lounging on Tito’s bed, as per usual, settled between his legs, back to chest, scrolling through his phone. Tito’s propping him up, leaning against the wall behind him, eyes trained on the tiny TV screen in the corner of their room. It’s nice, cozy. Mat can feel his friend tensing and untensing his chest and his arms, a habit that happens when he’s stressed. He doesn’t comment on it for now, figuring he’ll either pry it out of Tito later or he’ll spill eventually.

 

Tito stirs, breaking his staring contest with the TV, and drops his chin into Mat’s hair briefly. He takes a deep breath, one that Mat can feel on the exhale, cool air skirting across the top of his head.

 

“Barzy?” He speaks, starting out as a whisper that breaks into his voice on the second syllable. Mat hums in response, letting his friend know that he’s paying attention. “So I’m pretty sure that I’m, like, gay.” He says quietly, carefully, like he’s analyzing each word before he says it. Which, okay, that’s kind of a bombshell. Mat doesn’t care, obviously, he loves Tito regardless, he just needs a moment to let it sink in. He sets his phone in his lap, leans to the side, and looks up at Tito. His face is lit by the gentle glow of the TV in all of the right ways, and Mat almost forgets what he was going to say.

 

“Okay. Thanks for, you know, trusting me and stuff. You know you’ll always be my bro, no matter who you smash.” He tells him as sincerely as he can muster up, putting a hand on his friend’s knee. He’s a little concerned that the smile Tito breaks into is going to crack his face in half, but it sucks the tension right out of the room and his shoulders loosen immediately.

 

“You’re such a fucking frat guy, you know that?” He laughs, shoving gently at Mat’s shoulder. Mat counts that as a win, sitting back up and resuming his position against Tito’s chest. He feels softer, far more relaxed than before.

 

“So who else knows?” Mat asks carefully, shifting a little to get comfortable. He has more questions,  _ when did you know _ ,  _ how did you know _ ,  _ do you have a boyfriend _ , but he figures they can wait for now. His chest tightens at that last one, but he doesn’t dwell on it for too long when he gets distracted by Tito’s answer.

 

“My brother, he’s known for awhile. Also Ebs, because, like, dad.” Mat smiles at that, because it’s true, any secrets they have or troubles that might exist within their friend group, it almost always ends up with confiding in one Jordan Eberle. Total dad friend. “So you’re one of the first to know.” Something warm spreads deep in Mat’s chest at that. It’s a nice feeling, to know that you’re trusted. He manages to turn himself around to tackle Tito into a huge bear hug. Tito just laughs, letting his arms wrap securely around Mat’s waist, reciprocating the suffocating hug.

 

They eventually pull away, and that’s the end of the discussion around anything sexuality for the rest of the night. It doesn’t matter, Tito’s still Mat’s best friend and it won’t change anything, Mat decides, it isn’t a big deal.

 

-

 

Mat learns very quickly that it actually is a pretty big fucking deal, and also that he doesn’t know how to handle- whatever he’s feeling.

 

His first issue arises at some party Tito had managed to get them invited to and had spent a good twenty minutes practically begging Mat to put down the goddamn textbook and act their age for once.

 

“Fine,” Mat breathes out, his voice sounding so defeated, even in his own ears. He slides his psych homework off of his lap, into an abandoned pile at the foot of his bed. He looks around the room for literally anything other than the ratty sweatpants he’s sporting at the moment.

 

He throws on a pair of jeans that are tighter than the last time he wore them, but he figures they aren’t atrocious. He turns to Tito hesitantly, worrying his lip before finally asking, “would you fuck me?” He winces at his own awkward wording. It would have been nice for his brain to come up with literally anything other than that. “Like, are these okay?” He rephrases, gesturing to the jeans and Tito just shrugs.

 

“Yeah.” He pauses for a beat, before adding, “You didn’t need to wait to know that I’m gay for me to tell you if you look good or not.” Mat flushes a little, scratching the back of his neck. “Unless that was like, you know, a fashion thing. In that case, fuck off.”

 

“No, no, I really was just asking if I looked okay, but you’re right, it was kind of stupid.” Mat explains, trying to busy himself with brushing his teeth so he doesn’t have to soak in the awkward of the moment. Tito laughs, patting him on the shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, I’m probably, like, the first real life gay guy you’ve ever seen up close.” Mat sputters, setting down his toothbrush and turning around, hands on his hips. He opens his mouth to argue, but Tito just cracks up, shoving a towel in his face. “You’re so gross. Wipe your face, idiot.” He steps out of the bathroom, leaving Mat to stare at his own pathetic, toothpaste covered face.

 

They do eventually make it to the party, after half an hour more of just fucking around. Mat does his best to stick to Tito, but the house is filled to the brim with sweaty, drunk college students, so navigating proves a bit difficult. He loses his friend after getting caught up in a conversation with a guy from his Stats class, leaving him alone as the discussion naturally fizzles out.

 

Luckily, Mat’s taller than average, so he can crane his neck above the crowd. He spots the back of Tito’s head, setting his sights in that direction and wading through the sea of people. As he draws nearer, he starts to make out the shape of another person close to Tito. Slowly, the image comes into focus. Hands on Tito’s waist, in his hair. Tito’s lips on the throat of some random guy Mat’s never seen before. Something ugly rears its head deep in his gut, making his stomach roll threateningly. He can’t seem to look away, despite the wave of nausea rolling over him, pulling him under, only snapping out of it when a girl in a feather boa runs into him, seemingly oblivious to the crisis he’s having. She giggles, patting his chest and mumbling an apology, before disappearing.

 

The encounter is enough to get his feet moving as he stumbles to the kitchen; he’s too sober for this shit.

 

Tito finds him sitting on the counter some time later, soft smile on his face as he knocks their bottles together in greeting. Mat pretends not to notice the way his lips are red and bitten, eyes a bit glossy and cheeks flushed. He doesn’t say anything to Tito, just wraps his arms around his shoulders and buries his face into his neck. Tito chuckles, low in his chest, and takes a sip from his drink. Mat can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, brain too foggy to think past the warmth radiating from his best friend. Whatever, Tito is probably all too familiar with Mat’s clingy, drunk alter ego.

 

-

 

Mat thinks maybe he just needs to get laid, but after a halfhearted quickie with some girl he meets at an Arby’s, he decides that isn’t it.

 

The party isn’t the last time he gets the distinct sick feeling around Tito, it happens more than he’d care to admit. Watching him flirt, listening to him talk about boys, he almost expects to catch himself turning green when he hurries to the bathroom after he’s deemed it an acceptable amount of time for Tito to not catch on.

 

It clicks one night, long after Mat had retired to his bed, not sleeping but not quite awake either, when he’s startled alert by the click of their door. Once Mat wraps his head around what’s happening, he just blinks at Tito.

 

“Hey buddy, didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers, patting Mat’s shoulder as he passes by. He clicks the light on to dig through his dresser, bathing his face in warm yellow light. Mat can’t help but stare, letting his eyes drift to Tito’s neck and-

 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , man. You gettin’ some?” He slurs, his sleepy brain making it difficult to bite his tongue. He hopes he doesn’t sound as annoyed as he feels, the pit in his stomach reopening at lightning speed. Tito goes bright red, slapping his hand over the dark purple mark plastered right under his pressure point.

 

“Maybe.” He smiles a little to himself, and Mat feels a little like he’s going to pass out, so he just rolls over and closes his eyes.

 

“Nice,” is all he says, trying his best to be a good bro despite the headache starting to form behind his eyes. Tito clicks the light off without another word, climbing into bed and Mat tries to fall asleep to slowed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets from across the room.

 

Something is eating at him, though, trudging forward from the back of his mind, trying to make itself known. He feels sick, a mix of guilt and-  _ something _ . Mat doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to be supportive since Tito came out to him. He doesn’t have an issue with him being gay, obviously, but the thought of him doing shit with guys- Mat’s stomach rolls just at the thought of it. But that might be homophobic in and of itself, sure he doesn’t have a problem with the idea of someone being gay, but after it being put into action, he learns that he really does have an issue with it.

 

His heart drops at that, as the gears in his brain are turning full speed ahead. He doesn’t want to be homophobic, he just wants to be a good friend. He loves Tito, he doesn’t want to hate a part of him, especially a part that he can’t change, shouldn’t have to change.

 

He hasn’t really met anyone gay that had like, detailed their experiences to him. He had played hockey with a guy back in high school that had come out in junior year, and Mat was fine with that.  _ But _ , he had never witnessed him doing anything. So Mat could definitely still be homophobic.

 

The idea of that is even worse than what he’d been feeling for the past month or so.

 

-

 

He calls Ebs the next morning, fingers a little shaky and eyes heavy from getting a shitty night’s sleep. Jordan answers after two rings, voice thick with sleep as he manages a groggy, “hullo?”

 

“Hey man, can we meet somewhere for breakfast? It’s important.” In their friend group, breakfast is code for ‘ _ I’m having a crisis and need some of your dad-ly advice _ ’. That seems to wake him up, sounding a little like he’d been dunked in a tub of ice water.

 

“Of course, meet me outside your building in ten.” He orders and hangs up, leaving Mat feeling ever so grateful for friend and father-figure Jordan Eberle.

 

He throws on a hoodie and some sweats, brushes his teeth, makes himself look less scary while trying to kill time before he books it out of their dorm, almost tripping down the stairs in his hurry. He needs to solve this problem as soon as possible.

 

When he skids to a halt on the sidewalk, Jordan is already waiting for him. He still looks fuzzy around the edges, in the way only being prematurely woken up can do to you, but has a gentle smile on his face when he sees Mat. They exchange greetings, but other than that, they don’t speak the entire walk over to the IHOP just outside of campus, that had been affectionately renamed the safe haven, reserved mainly for self care and handling of crises. He’s kind of grateful for the lack of conversation, it gives him time to mull over what he’s going to say.

 

After they’ve ordered and handed off their menus to the young waiter working his shift, Jordan takes a slow sip of his coffee. “So, tell me, what’s on your mind?” Mat takes a deep breath, fingers tightening around his glass of orange juice.

 

“So you, uh, you know how Tito is gay, right? He said he told you.” He decides to open with, and Jordan nods wordlessly, gesturing for him to go on. “It wasn’t a big deal, when he came out, you know? I was like, whatever, that’s cool. You’re still my best friend, obviously.” Mat worries his lip between his teeth, looking everywhere except for Ebs at this point. “But I don’t think I’m okay with it?” He glances up at Jordan, whose face is thankfully neutral and unjudging. He’s learned to perfect his poker face over the years.

 

“How so?” He asks, voice even. Mat twirls the fork in front of him in between his fingers, palms starting to sweat. He wipes his free hand on his thigh.

 

“I caught him, like, making out with a guy at a party. I felt, like, gross. It’s the same feeling, when he talks about shit with guys. It isn’t even like he goes into detail or anything, it’s the most vague shit. And it’s like, I listen, because I want to be a good friend, but I can’t help but feel-  _ ugh _ about it.” He does his best to vocalize it, but he can’t really find the right words to describe it. Jordan nods, taking another sip. “So I think I’m homophobic.” The man across from him chokes on his coffee, slamming a hand down on the table, hard enough to make the silverware rattle.

 

“Jesus- Mat, you aren’t homophobic.” He says quickly, voice back to being calm, gentle even. Mat wishes he could believe him.

 

“What do you mean, I’m not homophobic? I think wanting to puke every time you imagine your best friend with a guy is pretty fucking homophobic, Ebs.” Mat shoots back, a little hysterically, running his hands through his hair. Jordan opens his mouth to respond, but they’re interrupted by their food arriving. After a quick smile and a thank you to the waiter, they turn back to the issue at hand.

 

“Maybe- and I’m just spitballing here, maybe this isn’t a gay thing. Maybe it’s a Tito thing.” Jordan suggests, shoveling a bite of pancakes into his mouth. Mat shrugs, poking at his eggs with his fork. That doesn’t sound too convincing.

 

“But I want him to be happy. It’s not like I secretly hate him deep down or something. I fuckin’ love Tito. Just when he does, like, the gay shit. It’s all fucked up, I don’t know.” Mat explains, shoulders drooping. Jordan just shakes his head, gesturing vaguely with his hands as he swallows his food.

 

“No, no. I mean like, I think you’re jealous.” Oh. Mat lets that sink in for a second, toying with what that could mean, but every possibility leads back to the same outcome. Which, really, can’t be right. Tito’s his bro, nothing more. He’s straight, and he says as much. Jordan presses his lips together, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe you’re like- I dunno, straight with an exception. It makes sense, now that I think about it.” Mat freaks out, once he processes that thought, just a little.

 

“Okay, shit, what do I do now?” He tries to keep his composure, but can feel his panic rapidly slipping through the cracks. Half of his plate of eggs sits abandoned in front of him, but Mat can’t bring himself to eat, having lost his appetite completely.

 

“Honestly, I think you should talk to Tito about it. He, out of anyone, will understand. You guys are best friends, Tito being your gay awakening isn’t going to change that. He wouldn’t let that happen.” Jordan tells him sincerely, fully using his dad voice. Mat’s heart drops at that, clamming up just thinking about it. He nods silently, leaning back in his chair, defeated.

 

“Okay,” Mat says softly, rubbing at his temples. “Okay. Thanks, Ebs.” Jordan smiles sympathetically, reaching across the table to pat his forearm.

 

“Anytime, buddy.”

 

-

 

After a long night of self reflection and weighing his options, along with a few supportive texts from Ebs, Mat finally faces Tito for the first time since his realization. They had plans to stay in tonight, Mat had promised to proofread Tito’s lab write-up, but they ultimately end up on the floor in front of Mat’s bed, leaning against the thin wooden frame, Tito kicking his ass at CoD.

 

“Oh, fuck you.” Mat groans, dropping his controller after a shot to the head kills him, no heat to his words. Tito just laughs, eyes trained on the screen, but gets wiped out shortly after. He curses, leaning his head back against the bed. Mat’s gaze gets caught on the bob of his Adam’s apple for a second, before forcing his eyes up, drawing his focus back to the task at hand. Before he can say anything, Tito speaks up.

 

“Dude, I can hear you thinking from over here. What’s up with you?” Before Mat can stop himself, he finds himself blurting the words out without thinking.

 

“How did you know you were gay?” He asks, examining a callus on his palm in favor of looking up at his friend. Tito blinks, tilting his head consideringly. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it. He repeats the motion a few more times, before finally settling on the right words.

 

“I kissed my guy friend on a dare back in high school, and it felt better than any girl I had ever been with, as cliche as that is.” Tito tells him, setting his controller aside. Mat just nods, aware of the ugly splotches of red painting his cheeks and neck. He’s tempted to get up and run, bolt out of the room and pretend this conversation never happened, but Tito continues. “Why?” Mat doesn’t respond at first, so his friend puts a hand on his knee, startling him out of his thoughts. “Come on, man, you can tell me. I’m your best friend and I’m fucking gay, I’m not gonna judge.” His voice sounds so god damn earnest, it makes Mat’s head spin.

 

“I think I might be bi? Or something, I dunno. I’ve just been… noticing things. Not so straight things.” Mat finally says, relieved once the words have tumbled past his lips and are hanging in the air between them. Tito grins, making a show of dropping his gaze to Mat’s mouth and slowly dragging it back up to look him in the eye again.

 

“Cool, need any help figuring it out?” He asks softly, letting his thumb swipe back and forth against the fabric of Mat’s sweats. Mat’s brain short circuits, giving a timid, helpless nod. Tito’s smile widens, moving his hand to cup his jaw and leaning in carefully. Mat’s eyes flutter closed, hands shaking in anticipation. The first time their lips brush, it’s soft, feather-light, over before it even begins, but it’s so, so good. They pull back for a weighted moment, eying each other, calculating. Tito exhales shakily as he leans back the rest of the way. “Can I do that again?” He rasps, pupils blown wide.

 

Mat barely gets a, “ _ God, yes _ ,” past his lips before Tito gets a hand in Mat’s hair, dragging him into another clumsier, more feverish kiss. Their teeth knock together and their noses smush into each other uncomfortably, but Mat feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. Tito hauls him into his lap, hand curled tightly around the back of his thigh, and Mat can’t help the gasp ripped from his throat.

 

He’d never been, like, manhandled before, which is definitely a  _ thing _ . Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s Tito. He really hopes that this isn’t just a one-off, or Tito just trying to be helpful, because it’ll make the impending conversation so, so much worse. Mat thinks he could probably just sit on the crush until he dies or moves on, whichever has the courtesy to come first.

 

“Mat,” Tito groans against his lips, “Stop thinking so much.” And with the way he’s tugging gently at Mat’s hair, it’s too easy to take his advice, sinking back into the kiss. He lets his hands wander down from Tito’s face, selfishly smoothing over miles of solid muscle. The fact that he’s kissing his best friend and person he has feelings for probably helps it, but Mat learns quickly that he really,  _ really _ likes kissing boys.

 

They’re humans, unfortunately, so they do have to separate eventually before their lungs give out. Mat refuses to go far, though, so he just rests his forehead against Tito’s, drawing in heavy, uneven breaths as the clouds in his brain slowly start to dissipate.

 

“Does it always- always feel like that?” Mat pants, hands tightening in the fabric of his friend’s shirt.  _ Like I’m simultaneously coming home and going on the adventure of a lifetime _ , he doesn’t say, because that’s incredibly cliche. Whatever, Mat’s an incredibly cliche guy. Tito chuckles, a little breathlessly, rubbing circles into Mat’s hips, just above the waistband of his sweats, and the motion grounds him just enough to continue having this conversation.

 

“Sometimes. Only when you’re kissing someone you really like.” Tito grins cheekily, but Mat can see the uncertainty in his eyes, which makes it that much more real. He can feel himself go an ugly shade of pink, probably looking a bit like a deer in headlights.

 

“You  _ like  _ me?” He asks, like he’s twelve, and Tito rolls his eyes and kisses Mat again, quick and firm, as if to make a point.

 

“You’re so stupid,  _ of course  _ I like you! What gay guy could have a best friend like you and  _ not _ like him!” Tito exclaims, all put-upon. Mat knows he doesn’t mean anything by it though, Tito’s just as stupid and giddy as he is. Mat can’t help the dumb, cocky smile that finds its way onto his face.

 

“That’s fantastic news, Mr. Beauvillier.” He tells him, running his hands over Tito’s shoulders just because, if the rest of this conversation goes as planned, he can. “I like you too. Now where were we?” He says quickly, leaning in to close the space between them once again. Tito indulges him for a couple seconds, before pushing against his chest to break the kiss.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tito stops them, eying Mat for a moment. “You’re sure about this, right? I don’t want to be your experimentation. I actually, for real like you, I need you to be sure.” He looks scared, his eyes vulnerable and earnest and expecting, like he’s waiting for Mat to snatch his heart from his chest and stomp it into the ground. It scares Mat, too, if he’s being honest. It all feels so real now, the realization of what he wants is a relationship with Tito, that he doesn’t know if anyone else could ever live up to being with his best fucking friend if it didn’t work out, it sits heavy in his chest.

 

He also hadn’t considered that it might just be a phase he’s going through, but kissing Tito, it had felt so right, he hadn’t felt more sure about anything else in his life.

 

“Yes, of course. Tito, I would never.” Mat insists, holding Tito’s face between his hands, trying his best to convey just how much he means it through unwavering eye contact, but the words probably would have done just as well on their own. Tito relaxes, staring at Mat like he hung the moon and that’s- that’s a lot.

 

“Good. Now, where were we?” He parrots Mat’s words from earlier, and Mat kisses him, slow and deep, like he’s trying to press his intentions into Tito’s skin, into his lips. It’s sweet, but charged and passionate, and it’s absolutely fucking perfect.

 

-

 

Later that evening, Ebs gets a Snap from Mat, bracing himself for some cop-out excuse or random meme, but he’s faced with something far softer than he had expected.

 

The picture is dark and slightly washed out, taken with the shitty flash on Mat’s phone, but he can clearly see Tito’s head resting on Mat’s shoulder, face slack with sleep. Near the bottom of the screen, Jordan can make out their hands, tightly clasped together. It makes him smile, relieved that Mat actually grew a pair and kept them long enough to make a move, glad that it had worked out.

 

The caption is a simple,  _ thx ebs _ , with about a dozen pink hearts, but Jordan can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at the excessive use of emojis, his heart too full. He puts his phone down with a proud grin on his face, settling back into the show he was watching on his laptop for the night.  _ Good for them _ , he thinks,  _ good for them. _

**Author's Note:**

> i have a tumblr! come say hi at [starryandersen](https://starryandersen.tumblr.com)


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